The easy day wasn’t so easy.
I have decided that to watch a race is 100 times more exhausting than doing the race. Our 90 minute ride turned into a 225 minute ride not including the cyclocross portion of the ride which consisted of dodging dogs, double strollers and spacy spectators while carrying our bikes through sand (including 3 stops to empty cycling shoes of said sand).
Our race day started early at 7 am. Cat, Thomas and I rode up to Oceanside to catch Chris exiting the swim. When we realized we would be about 10 minutes too late we picked up the easy pace to slightly below pedal like hell pace.
But still we came up about 10 minutes too late. So we decided to have breakfast instead. After a good old big boy breakfast with coffee, we went back to the race. We settled into our own spot at the middle of a hill and cheered loud. Very loud. Ridiculously loud. So loud we just about lost our voices.
We had a blast. Kudos to race organizers for putting participant names on the race numbers. This multiplies the fun of spectating by at least 100 as you can find many entertaining things to say about a person’s name. Because this was so much fun, I have decided not to race pro this year instead I will just cheer pro. I am applying for my professional inspirtation specialist card. Because I got mad skills. So does Cat. And Thomas – well, he just called out every hot chick on the course. I’m not sure if that was so much of a skill or just months of being single coming out.
Cat wins for the best phrase that she said to the athlete wearing the Gorilla Multisport jersey:
Go ape shit on this course
I came in second with:
Just put yourself in the hurt box, close the lid and ship yourself right to the finish line.
Thomas – well, after all those hot chicks he was just happy to be in the spectating game.
After the race, I met the adorable Rachel Ross who makes running look way too easy. Eileen Swanson who is now hungry for more. Finally putting faces to names!
Chris had a strong race. He was working hard. I can’t imagine what would possess someone to race a half Ironman in March but he went for it with full force and took on that run course like a man possessed.
After the race, we rode back and then I tended to my rear end.
WARNING: I will now talk about my rear end. Consider yourself warned and if you choose to read on you have my permission to laugh (especially Marit).
The other day during my canyon run when my stomach dropped around mile 4 and I dropped my business behind a tree it appears that the pile of leaves I thought belonged to the sycamore tree did not. They were actually poison oak leaves. This means my entire rear end is now covered in a red poison oak rash.
Insert laughter here.
I am so glad you find this funny because I actually just find it very, very itchy and uncomfortabe. Because it is not socially acceptable to walk around with my hand in my pants to relieve the itch. The only place I get some relief is when I am on a bike seat – which is an evil trick at this point because after riding 13 hours in 4 days the last place I want to be is on a bicycle seat – but the pain of the seat completely distracts from the burning itch in my ass.
Of course the boys find this beyond funny. They took this as their opportunity to have yet another woman in their presence drop their pants to reveal their rear end (right, Marit?). I fell for the trick (sort of) until I realized there was no need to give everyone a show just my husband who upon seeing it responded with OH MY GOD and “hey guys it really is that bad.”
Thanks.
So, the joke of the night (thanks Cat) has been that Liz said she wanted ass cream not ice cream so when they gave her a scoop of mint chocolate chip she said that’s not what I was looking for but the minty cool feeling gets rid of the itch and leaves chocolate chips behind for a later snack.
Cat, that is SO wrong in SO many ways.
I sit here now with medicated rear end looking forward to tomorrow’s ride. Because at least for another 4 hours I will have something pressing on my rear that kills the itching pain. I guess you could say I’ve got a fever and the prescription is…more riding.
And if that doesn’t work, I’m going back to the ice cream.
